eleventhbeatnik

musings of an aquarian age counterculturist


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Becoming the Best We Can Be

“What if our ancestors got it wrong?”
Lyn White

Hello friends.  It’s been awhile.  All attempts at writing lately have ended before ever really starting.  Basically, I’ve been feeling flat and uninspired.

Until now.  I stumbled across a presentation called Becoming the Best We Can Be the other day.  Watching it set off firecrackers in my head and filled my heart to the brim. It is so good, so hopeful, so inspiring, so beautiful. So much so, I saw it twice.  It has awakened a part of me that has been quiet for awhile.  Suddenly I’m remembering all the things that matter most to me and why.  Things that too often get buried under the weight of the day-to-day distractions and to do lists.

Do yourself a favour.  Do the world a favour.  Press play.  The entire presentation is available to view online for free and is worth every second of your time.

More soon. I feel it.  xo

Full presentation available here:
Becoming the Best We Can Be

Lyn White


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Excuse Me While I Make Myself a Little More Uncomfortable.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do, so throw off the bowlines, sail away from safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails.  Explore, Dream, Discover.
–Mark Twain

As I’ve written about here before, there have been a lot of big changes going on in my life over the last year.  So many in fact that my head spins when I stop to consider it all.

My circumstances could certainly be classified as one of those situations where some pretty miserable experiences turned out to be in my best interest.  Not that there is any way in hell I could have been able to recognize the larger picture while it was all happening .  Fighting to stay afloat in a slew of emotional pain doesn’t exactly allow for broader philosophical-based thinking.

In the midst of a relentless shitstorm, it seemed that all I could really do is put my head down and ride it out until it passed.  And in time, it did pass.  Slowly and steadily some semblance of calmness and insight crept in, and with a lot of love and support from people who genuinely cared, I was eventually able to breathe again without the sensation of a crushing weight on my heart.

Arising from a place of immobility, I finally surrendered to the changes that were occurring spontaneously all around me from that point on.  Looking at my life now, I can’t believe everything that has happened from that moment to this.  There are times I don’t recognize myself anymore.  I’ve decided to accept this as a good sign.

Yes, what a difference a year makes.  Whispers of struggle remain, but I am in such a different place than I was a year ago.  A far more peaceful, sweeter, loving place.  But by no means am I feeling comfortable.   This is not a bad thing.

For the first time in a long while I’m feeling optimistic in the present moment and excited about the future.  Amongst many other things going on, I am leaving behind a 20+ year career that was a self-made prison, otherwise known as my “Comfort Zone”.   While I’m grateful for the experience I gained and the skills I now carry with me, I realize that world no longer fits who I am or where I’m going.  And so a new adventure begins.  I am in the early stages of carving out a freelancing business and narrowing down the services I am planning to offer.  All I know for certain is that I am being called to do my own thing, in whatever way it manifests.

As exciting as it is, there is a lot of fear rising up inside about my ability to make this happen.  Despite that, I am not allowing fear to prevent me from moving forward.  I have so much to learn but I’m ready to take a leap into the unknown.  It is time to follow the dream unfolding before me by creating space to follow my intuition and allow new ideas to inspire me.  In the end, I’m determined that if it doesn’t work out, it won’t be because I didn’t give it my best shot.

So excuse me while I make myself a little more uncomfortable.  Right now, it is the best feeling in the world.

blessings


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The Art of Moving On

Over the years I’ve become a seasoned expert in the art of transient living.  Or as the uninitiated might phrase it:  moving.

I am gradually making my way from room to room sorting through belongings.  Inventory time.  What will stay with me and what will go?  This pile for packing.  That pile for charity.  A pile here for selling.  A pile there for recycling.

Rule #1 for a frequent mover is to maintain a firm non-pack-rat-itis policy.  Collecting too much stuff or becoming overly attached to material things is danger zone territory.  Avoiding this trap makes it that much easier to part company with the goods when the time comes.  Even then, a certain level of ruthlessness is required when sorting through everything that originally passed the keeper litmus test.  After pile decisions are made, the lovely lightness of being that generally accompanies the liberation from unnecessary crap makes it all worthwhile.

This move is decidedly different.  This time, I’m struggling.  Deciding what goes has been painstaking.  I’m resistant to sealing up boxes in case I change my mind.  I feel unsteady and unsure.  Certainly not my usual characteristically focused self when it comes to changing residences and today I was reminded in a forceful way of why that is.

The person I expected to share my life with snuck up on me.  As I opened an envelope in a shoebox, I came face to face with forgotten photographs taken during the first year we were married.  Smiling, happy, shiny faces – his and mine.  Arms wrapped around each other, heads magnetically leaning in, expressions reflecting a moment that could not possibly be any better than it already was.  Photos of us together, with family, alone and smiling into the camera for one another.

I sat down on the floor with those images held close to my heart and cried for a very long time.  Who were those glowingly contented looking people?  Was that joy genuine and consistent, or simply a snapshot capturing a fleeting moment in time?  What did they really mean to each other?  I don’t know the answers and must accept that it is unlikely I ever will.

Yes, this move is different.  I am not merely swapping one address for another.  I am leaving behind all the hopes and dreams that were kept alive in this home for those two shiny, happy people who existed in those photographs but not real time.   A future dreamed, never to be realized.

This move means so much more than adopting a new postal code.   It marks my stepping forward into a brand new life.  Different dreams and uncharted terrain await.

In the leaving, I am taking a gigantic leap of faith into the unknown.  Letting go of old stuff.  Letting go of all the parts of myself that no longer fit. Letting go of the dreams that died within these walls.  Letting go.

It is time to take new photographs.

paparazzi sis

photo credit: eleventhbeatnik